Ghost Town
by Vague Apparitions
Summary: AU. One night, Sam takes Tucker to a ghost town called Amity, where she tells him the legend of Phantom, a vigilante who was unjustly murdered in the 1800s. According to the stories, Phantom still haunts the decaying ruins of Amity, manifesting himself to visitors. But how true can an old ghost story be?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** _Nothing is mine._

**Author's Notes:** _On Tumblr, there's a prompt-a-day thing going on called Phanniemay. I've taken on quite a few prompts and ideas. This Western AU is for a Western prompt. Enjoy._

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**"Ghost Town"  
****Chapter 1**

There was never much merit in urban legends and ghost stories, but that made nineteen-year-old Sam love them all the more. She was the kind of person to go somewhere abandoned in the middle of the night, "accidentally" disregarding any signs about trespassing or structural instability, in the hope of encountering something terrifying.

She went by herself most of the time, but she was occasionally able to drag her friend, Tucker, along. He was easily spooked, so it wasn't easy; however, she still managed to convince him, from time-to-time.

The time they went to explore the ghost town of Amity was one of those times.

Sam had taken the liberty of driving herself and Tucker to the old ghost town, which was hundreds of miles away from their hometown. It had been something of a road trip, and Sam may or may not have promised Tucker that they would stop at as many barbecue joints as he wanted along the way, despite her disgust of meat in general. Needless to say, he was eager to leave the morning they began their trip.

"I don't like it here, Sam," Tucker said as they wandered through the old, decaying cemetery. The sky was a deep cerulean, for the sun had just passed beyond the horizon. "It's way too creepy."

"We're looking for the ghosts," Sam said. "Don't you think a cemetery is the best place for it?"

"I thought that a 'ghost town' just meant that it was abandoned," Tucker argued. "I didn't think it meant actual _ghosts_."

"It usually doesn't," Sam said, "but this place has them. Or it's supposed to. And I'm looking for someone."

"Looking for someone? What, a relative or something?"

"No. There's… a ghost. Or one of them. They call him the Amity Phantom. Lots of people have seen him," Sam said, a smile twitching at the edges of her purple-painted lips. "I want to be one of them."

Tucker gulped. He didn't like the way any of this sounded, and took a step closer to Sam, away from one of the nearby tombstones.

"He's supposed to be benevolent, so don't worry," Sam continued. Her smile broadened. "Want to hear a story?"

"Uh, sure," Tucker said. He'd let Sam take him to an old cemetery in a ghost town in the middle of the night, so he might as well let her tell him a story, too.

"In the 1830s," Sam began, "this place was a busy town. All kinds of people lived here, and it seemed like a really nice place to live. But, like any town in the Old West, there were outlaws that came through.

"At first, the town's sheriff worked to keep the outlaws at bay, but the old sheriff eventually died. A new one replaced him. Sheriff Walker. They say Walker was an outlaw himself, but pretended to turn a new leaf while he took a cut of the profits from other outlaws. In exchange, the outlaws got to come through Amity without any problems.

"That was until a vigilante showed up. This vigilante would pick off the outlaws, one-by-one, at the borders of the town. If any of them made it to town, he'd show up and take care of them. Never lost a shoot-out, according to legend. And they say he came and went as if he were a ghost, which is why they called him the Phantom — even when he was alive. Pretty ironic. No one knew who he was, since he would cover his face.

"Walker was furious and put up a reward for Phantom, but no one could catch him — until the mayor of the town died, and was replaced with a man named Masters, who was a good friend of Walker's. They both spread a lot of propaganda against Phantom and raised the award for his arrest. Eventually, they staged an attack to lure him out — and it worked.

"They caught Phantom and found out that he was a local boy named Danny Fenton, revealing him in front of everyone. They riled up the crowds, screaming that he was a criminal and not a hero. Phantom tried to explain that Masters and Walker were the real criminals, but no one believed him. He was too demonized by them. Besides, who would believe him? The mayor _and_ the sheriff were both against him.

"Um, you know how people back then formed lynch mobs and stuff?

"That's exactly what happened. They dragged Phantom to the gallows and executed him on the spot. After they hung him, Amity went into this crazy decline and faded away into a ghost town. It's said that Masters and Walker both died within weeks after the hanging, both in mysterious accidents. Karma's a bitch.

"Phantom is supposed to haunt the town. He's haunted it ever since he died. Lots of people think he's protecting Amity like he used to. Some think he's trying to live, since he was pretty young when he died. Like, our age. He had his whole life in front of him, and was murdered. And I_really_ hope we get to see him."

"That's a sad story and all," Tucker said, "but I don't. Ghosts in general freak me out. Besides, we should go soon; it's getting cold out."

"It's not _that_ cold," Sam said, "just a breeze. Otherwise, it's been pretty warm, I think."

_Clink._

"Sam," Tucker said, "did you kick a rock?"

"No," Sam answered. "I thought that was you."

"Uh, no!?" Tucker said, eyes widening.

Sam grinned, deviously. "Then that means we're not alone."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes:**_ I heard you wanted more. . . ?_

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**"Ghost Town"  
Chapter 2**

He had always liked stories. Happy stories, usually, where the hero saves the day and everyone lives happily ever after. His mother used to tell him stories like that when he was younger. He wanted to be a hero, too, back then.

The story the girl told was much different. It was a story of corruption and death, where the hero satisfied the public only by hanging from a noose. It wasn't a story he particularly liked, and one that he already knew — but he listened to it, anyway, because it was his own.

Curious, Phantom stepped toward them, kicking a pebble in the process. When he was close enough, he inspected them; they seemed like everyone else who came to the graveyard, which meant that they were there for something other than paying respects. Phantom was always apprehensive about _those_ people, since more than a few had vandalized the graves — and subsequently had run away, screaming because they'd _thought_ the Amity Phantom wasn't real. These two didn't seem very bad, but the ghost couldn't be sure.

"Then that means we're not alone," the girl said, smiling devilishly.

The boy with her glanced around the cemetery with wide eyes, incidentally looking right through Phantom. "Sam," he said, "can we _please_ go now!? I don't want to see a ghost."

"No way! It could be him," the girl — Sam — said. She turned to look at some of the surrounding stones. There weren't any ghosts — that she could see, anyway. To absolutely nothing, she said, "Look, um, Phantom? Danny? If you're here, if that was you, can you maybe give us a sign?"

Unsure of what to do, Phantom took another pebble and tossed it onto the ground. As the pebble landed, the scared boy seemed to jump out of his skin and made a break for the cemetery gate. Phantom frowned; he didn't_ mean_ to scare these people.

"Tucker, get back here!" Sam shouted.

"No way!" Tucker said, already past the gate. "This is freaking me the hell out and I'm just going to go back to the nice, safe, _unhaunted_ car!"

"Fine! Have fun sitting in the car and being boring!" Sam said, crossing her arms across her chest. "Whatever." She sighed, trying to regain her composure. _Stupid Tucker_, she thought, _running away the second we actually might see something_. She sat down on a boulder, taking off her backpack and placing it on the ground beside her. After a few minutes of dead silence, a slight, chilly breeze picked up. Shivering, Sam wrapped her arms around herself; she wished she brought a jacket.

_"I'm sorry."_

Sam's head jolted upward. Maybe it was the wind, but she could have sworn that a very faint voice had just apologized. She didn't see anything, though. Maybe there _wasn't_ a ghost. Maybe she was just hearing things…

But she could try again. She opened her backpack and rummaged through it until she found a digital camera. She switched it on.

"Phantom, if you're here… I want to let you know that what happened to you was wrong. You didn't deserve to be mur-" Sam was cut off by the beeping of her dying camera battery. "_Damn_, I thought I charged the batteries on this! Well, there goes that." Frustrated, Sam tossed the camera into the bag. "Some night. Some ghost hunt. Whatever. Guess I'll go back to the car."

Angry and disheartened, Sam got up from her boulder, slinging her backpack over her shoulder, and made for the gate. She was surprised to see that Tucker hadn't actually gone back to the car after all; he was waiting for her at the entrance to the cemetery.

"Didn't want to go through the spooky ghost town in the middle of the night by yourself, huh?" she asked, feeling a bit better now that she had something else to tease Tucker about.

Or, she would, if that was Tucker.

As Sam approached, her smug smile immediately dropped as she saw that, instead of Tucker standing at the gate, there was a strange young man. He was extremely pale, with pure white hair. His green eyes seemed to pierce the darkness, and he seemed to glow — though that may have been the moonlight casting its light on him.

As strange as he was, Sam thought he was much too solid to be a ghost. "Nice outfit," she said. She meant it. It was a little disheveled, but it seemed to be accurate period dress — mostly black, too. She could definitely appreciate that. He wore a battered leather hat and duster jacket. His black vest was buttoned, and underneath, he wore a white high-necked shirt. The shirt was a bit dirty, and the first few buttons were undone. Around his neck was a wild rag, so loosely tied that it threatened to fall off. Overall, Sam thought he was pretty cute and had a great look; she found herself thinking that, if she made a few changes to it, "Western goth" could be a thing.

The stranger nodded, tipping his hat. "Sorry about your friend, ma'am," he said. He seemed a bit sad as he spoke, and Sam had to wonder why. Was there something wrong? Did he need help?

"Oh, Tucker? He's just a… _Wait_… How would you know about… ?" Sam trailed off, looking at him. More specifically, his neck. And that's when she noticed it.

Rope burn.

Sam took off a bat out of hell, dropping her backpack in shock. She'd come to the cemetery to find a dead vigilante, and once she'd found him, she ran away. She wasn't sure why she was running, but her heart was beating faster than it ever had. Once she reached the car, she scrambled for the door, opening it as soon as Tucker unlocked it for her.

"What the hell happened to you?" Tucker asked.

"O-oh… O-oh my god… Oh my god. _Ohmygodohmygodohmygod_. Holy _shit!_"

"Sam, calm down! What happened!?"

"Tucker, I saw him. He talked to me. Sh-shit, I dropped my bag. _Wow_. I don't know if I'm scared or excited, but I feel like I can't even breathe right now."

"Wait. Hold up," Tucker said. "You took us here in the middle of the night, to a cemetery, to find this ghost. And then, when you saw him, you ran away… Glad you're starting to see things my way."

"Fat chance," Sam said. "He just… caught me off-guard. That's all."

"What'd he do?"

"Nothing. Just apologized for scaring you."

"_Seriously?_ You're kidding, right? You have to be kidding."

"I am _not!_" Sam retorted.

"Alright, so, what was he like?"

"Um… Really pale. White hair. Green eyes," she said. "And he seemed…_sad_." She sat back in the plush seat of the car, thinking about the ghost she just saw. "Really sad…"


End file.
